


so just pull the trigger.

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon LGBTQ Character, Choking, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Heavy BDSM, Knifeplay, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, REQUEST!!, Same-Sex Marriage, Shameless Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Russian Roulette by Rihanna.~~~~~“Is that you asking me to publicly top you?,” Anastasia teased, never stilling the blade at her neck. “Wow... and you have the audacity to call me an exhibitionist.”“That is me, your domme, ordering you to give me what I want,” she pressed a series of kisses down the bridge of her nose and moved her thigh upwards, making her moan, “which at this moment of time, happens to be a little something involving a blade that I only trust you to do, my pet.”“Fuck,” Anastasia groaned as Kamilah’s hands drifted to her hips to hold her still. She fully intended to torture her before allowing her any relief.“There’s a little word you could say—““Safeword out of this?,” Anastasia giggled as Kamilah clenched her thigh. “Ah— Never.”“Good girl,” she smirked.“Let the games begin.”
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	so just pull the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: could you maybe write a Halloween one shot for kamilah x mc since it’s October 
> 
> IG PROMPT: Kami x Annie smuuuut like your 50 Shades fic!!

In her more than two thousand years of life, Kamilah had seen and done things that most people could scarcely imagine. One thing, however, that she had never done — nor had any desire to do — was celebrate Halloween. It was a foolishly frivolous mortal holiday as far as she was concerned and a Halloween party was certainly not the type of occasion she’d grace others with her presence at... before she was a married woman, that was. Now she knew that a happy wife meant a happy life, so when Anastasia said they were attending Lily’s annual Halloween party at The Shadow Den... she took some shots and put on a damn costume.

“What are you supposed to be, Kamilah?,” Adrian asked. She couldn’t take him seriously in his costume; a silvery-grey bodysuit beneath a suit that was supposed to look like a potato with an odd looking silver antenna on his head. Sputnik. Or ‘spud-nik’, apparently.

She glanced down at the clothes she’d somehow managed to squeeze herself into. The black silk Dior dress she was wearing may have been tight enough that she couldn’t comfortably sit down and short enough that it barely hit her mid thighs, but her wife was tiny enough that fitting into her clothes at all had come as quite the surprise. The dress was one Anastasia wore to work and looked perfectly professional on her but Kamilah felt like she looked like she was going to a nightclub in it, even when she’d paired it with Anastasia’s favourite jewellery, a glossy black Chanel envelope purse that crossed over her body — and held her daggers nicely due to the irritating lack of pockets — and styled her hair in the same neat-but-wavy way she did for the office.

“I’m Annie. Is that much not obvious?,” she asked her eyebrow raised.

“Ah, now I see it. That’s one of the dresses you had made for her when you had Mathew call Dior to complain that their latest collection had disappointed you,” he snorted. “I still can’t believe you did that, by the way.”

She took a long sip out of the Old Fashioned she was drinking to make this party bearable. “My wife deserves the best and what they released was not the best. She likes Dior... and I’m me... so, of course, I told them to make me something better. Just like I did when Hermes made Birkins that didn’t meet my standards.”

“Has anyone ever called you a difficult client?,” Adrian smirked.

She shrugged. “Of course they have... but that woman is the sunshine of my life and I’ll be damned if she wants for anything for as long as I continue to draw breath. She turned my existence into a life and she will be treated like a queen.”

“Mon amie, you are whipped,” Serafine gushed as a means of announcing her presence. She was dressed in an elaborate pirate costume complete with a feathered hat that she claimed wasn’t authentic, but Kamilah knew better. She’d lived long enough to know that no machine could replicate the intricate patterns of stitching that had gone out of fashion centuries earlier.

“I still don’t understand what that means. It seems to me like Kamilah would be the one doing the whipping—“

“I will stab you,” she interjected. He wasn’t wrong. She was absolutely the one wielding the whip in certain scenarios, but she was far too dignified to publicly declare her wife a bratty bottom who needed a firm hand because she wanted to be punished as often as Kamilah was willing to do so. “And I’m not just saying that to say it. You so much as think about me whipping my wife and I’ll stab you in the throat— Annie is psychic, so I’ll know.”

“Adrian,” Serafine snorted.

He threw his hands up and almost stumbled backwards into a pile of decorations in his top-heavy costume when Kamilah gave him a light shove. When he spoke, his words were hardly even audible through his laughter, “Oh, like either of you understand what it means! You just say it because Lily and Anastasia say it!”

“You have the best costume though,” they overheard Lily say to Anastasia as they approached. “My personal motto is: WWWWD?: What Would Wonder Woman Do?”

“Dude, this is a stoner conversation and we're not even high. I thought your personal motto was: WWCBD?: What Would Cate Blanchett Do?”

“Nah, changed it.”

“When?”

“When I saw your titties in that costume— don’t tell Kamilah.”

“Kamilah can hear you,” Kamilah sighed, glaring at her drunken protégé. She was another of the many people at this festive gathering she couldn’t take seriously, having matched her costume with an equally confused Nikhil. Collectively they were Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Alone, Lily just looked like an intoxicated dolphin with cardboard fins stuck to her body and odd sequinned goggles over her eyes... and Nikhil looked like he belonged on the Drag Race TV show she secretly enjoyed watching with Anastasia.

“No she can’t, Anastasia,” Lily said, winking dramatically at her whilst simultaneously stumbling over her own feet and sending Adrian sprawling onto the floor.

“Lily Spencer, I will tell you one time. Eat. Some. Goddamn. Cheetos. I will not be holding your hair back when you vomit,” she sighed, hauling her to her feet with one hand by the fin on her back. “Right this moment.”

“But mooooooom,” Lily teased, shutting up for only a second the moment she raised her eyebrow at her. “Don’t fucking stab me. I’m a shark superhero. I belong in the ocean. Just throw me in the Hudson and let me drift out... you can’t believe how bleeding scary the ocean is! There’s, like, whales and fish and storms and shit! They don’t bloody tell you that—“

“Lily,” she growled. “I will stab you and throw your corpse into the ocean if that is what you desire—“

“Kamilah,” yelped Lily. “No!”

“Kamilah, yes,” she deadpanned.

A sly smile spread across her face as she let go of the cardboard fin and sent Lily on her merry way, but faded when she glanced back over her shoulder at them and shot them with finger guns. “Hasta la vista, bitches!”

She sighed. “That girl truly is Satan's sequined spawn.”

“Not gonna lie, that was really hot,” Anastasia murmured as she looped her arms around her waist and buried her face into her shoulder.

“Seeing me threaten people gets you all hot and bothered, does it?,” she smirked, playfully bringing her hand to rest on her ass. The costume she was wearing was little more than lingerie. Much more gaudy than what she usually went for but that certainly didn’t mean it was any less pleasing to look at. And the thigh high boots she’d paired it with did things to Kamilah when she wore them over jeans or with a skirt, but paired with this hyper-sexual suit of ‘armour’... she was weak. 

Anastasia mumbled into her shoulder and Kamilah playfully spanked her, not caring who was watching. She’d never wanted a woman this much in her whole life. She’d burn cities to have her. She’d fight armies. She’d commit murder to take her right at that very moment.

“You two are ridiculous,” Serafine concluded. “Who ever would have thought there would come a time that our dear, tightly wound Kamilah would be engaging in public displays of BDSM at a Halloween party whilst wearing her wife’s clothes. Adorable.”

She groaned loudly and buried her face into Anastasia’s hair, mainly to hide the fact she was blushing. Her wife was the only one who was allowed to call her adorable, regardless of how much she liked it — it was so different to the terms of endearment she’d been called in the past, which was probably why she had a... thing... for it, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. 

“Yes, yes, they’re quite adorably ridiculous, but what does a man have to do to get a little help around here?,” Adrian yelped, rolling awkwardly on the floor in his costume as he tried and failed to stand up.

“That’s what you get for wearing such a stupid costume,” she deadpanned whilst snapping a photo of him on her phone. 

Adrian groaned from the floor. “Anastasia liked it! I’m Spudnik!”

“I’m a nerd and my family were soviets,” Anastasia giggled as she crouched down with Serafine to get a photo with him. “I would like it.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite,” he laughed.

“You like that she’s a soviet?,” Serafine teased. “I’m looking at you in a whole new light.”

“She was born after the whole soviet thing,” Adrian pouted as they each took one of his hands and hauled him to his feet as Kamilah filmed the whole thing. She planned to lord the footage over him for centuries to come. “She’s my favourite because she got it right away.”

Anastasia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand how anyone couldn’t get it.”

“You two are strange,” Serafine chuckled. “I thought he was a pebble.”

Kamilah snorted. There was plenty she could tease them about regarding their sense of humour but she secretly found it endearing that her wife somehow had the same overly morbid sense of humour as Lily whilst simultaneously liking the punny jokes Adrian made on a regular basis... and her mind went blank when her eyes drifted down to Anastasia’s cleavage. Literally any sarcastic comment she could’ve made just vanished.

Realising she was staring at her, Anastasia wordlessly reached into the black Chanel bag draped around her body and pulled out one of the daggers stashed inside. She gracefully twirled the blade around the fingers of her left hand and casually ran her right hand over her torso, raising a single eyebrow at her. 

That was all it took for all the blood on her body to rush south.

“You’re playing with fire,” she smirked, biting down on her bottom lip. “Behave yourself at once.”

Anastasia sighed breathily as she continued to tease her, all the while batting her eyelashes like the picture of virginal innocence. “Am I?”

Kamilah cleared her throat but she couldn’t look away... and the thoughts that entered her head would’ve shocked most people. Her eyes roamed over her chest, and all she could imagine was how she was going to play with her gorgeous breasts, how she was going to mark them and bite them and suck them. Then she was going to fuck her with her fingers and her tongue until she came in her mouth. It was not going to be slow or gentle. She was going to fuck her hard and fast until she came so hard she screamed her name.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about— Kami!,” Anastasia squealed as Kamilah unceremoniously shoved her against the nearest wall and slid a thigh between hers. She didn’t care who saw as she ran her hands over her body and peppered kisses against her jaw... she was the only one who got to have Anastasia this way. People could look all they wanted.

“You owe me a drink,” Serafine said to Adrian as they made themselves scarce. “I told you the second we saw Anastasia’s costume that Kamilah wouldn’t even last an hour before having to have her.”

“Well when they wind up accidentally turning this gathering into a bacchanalia like they did at last years Dark Solstice, you owe me a drink,” Adrian replied.

“Horny, are you?,” Anastasia giggled whilst kissing one side of her neck and lightly dragging the dagger down the other. 

She groaned, prompting Anastasia to press the blade against her skin harder. Not enough to draw blood, yet, but enough that a surge of pleasure crashed through her. She scraped her fangs against the Bloodkeeper’s neck and then moved to nip at her ear. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a breathy whisper, “do it.”

“Is that you asking me to publicly top you?,” Anastasia teased, never stilling the blade at her neck. “Wow... and you have the audacity to call me an exhibitionist.”

“That is me, your domme, ordering you to give me what I want,” she pressed a series of kisses down the bridge of her nose and moved her thigh upwards, making her moan, “which at this moment of time, happens to be a little something involving a blade that I only trust you to do, my pet.”

“Fuck,” Anastasia groaned as Kamilah’s hands drifted to her hips to hold her still. She fully intended to torture her before allowing her any relief.

“There’s a little word you could say—“

“Safeword out of this?,” Anastasia giggled as Kamilah clenched her thigh. “Ah— Never.”

“Good girl,” she smirked. 

“Let the games begin.”

A soft moan escaped from the back of her throat as Anastasia sliced her skin, at first not even deep enough to bleed, shallow enough that it took less than three seconds for it to heal and the sting to disappear entirely. Then she repeated the action. Again. And Again. And again. Before finally pressing in farther. 

Kamilah groaned, the noise low in her throat as the pleasant burning pain of a stab wound to the neck spread down her body. She rewarded Anastasia with a few clenches of her thigh, making her whimper as she leaned in to lick the blood trickling down from the wound as it knit itself back together.

Being like this with her, a blade at her neck, objectified, she lost all fear that she’d felt with previous partners. With Anastasia, she felt safe. She felt both a gain and a loss of control so complete, a surrender so honest that it became a luxurious indulgence.

“Good girl,” she breathed, shuddering at the feeling of her fangs scraping and periodically sinking into the sensitive newly healed skin. “Thats— Mhm-mm— My good girl.”

“I love the way you taste, Kami,” Anastasia murmured without lifting her head from her neck.

She huffed in amusement and moved to lick the blood from her chin. How one could be this adorable pinned to a wall with blood trickling down their face, she hadn’t the faintest idea. Topping her satisfactorily when she was constantly torn between bending her over her knee to spank her for daring to be so goddamn cute and stopping to smother her with kisses was quite the challenge.

“Well that was fun,” she smirked, removing her thigh from between hers.

Anastasia pouted. “Kami!”

“Oh, my love,” she purred, her mouth only inches from her ear. “Did you honestly think you could tease me like that and get rewarded? Hmm? Tell me, what happens when you’re bratty?”

Anastasia sighed. “You punish me.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, teasingly tugging a thin strand of her hair. “And why do I punish you?”

“I—“ A sharp gasp cut her off as she grabbed a fistful her hair and tugged, tilting her head to the side to press a series of featherlight kisses to her neck. “Because I deserve it.”

“And why do you deserve it?”

Anastasia moaned softly and squirmed, seeking any relief she could find. “Be— ah, Kami— please—“

“Why do you deserve it?,” she repeated, sliding two fingers into her mouth. “Use your words. Why do you deserve it?”

The redhead groaned, her tongue circling the digits in her mouth. Even just that sent a shock of pleasure to her most intimate places, the way it always did when her wife allowed her to play with her like this. This sort of submission was about gaining trust and respect, so Anastasia would feel comfortable letting her exert her will over her. She found that she gained a great deal of pleasure, joy, in her submission — in her trust.

Kamilah’s mouth went dry as she stared at her wife, pinned against the wall, sucking on her fingers... completely at her mercy. And she wondered, had there really been anyone before her?

She might have thought so at the the time.

But she truly felt like no one had ever loved her before Anastasia.

She was sure they had done their best, but she had always belonged to Anastasia. She might not have known it... but it was the truth. She was the sky over her head. The sun she revolved around, the stars that marked her, the moon rising through her. Without her, she was lost. There was no one else, no one whose soul balanced hers the way hers did. 

Anastasia let her fingers go with a pop and breathed, “Because I want it.”

“Good girl.” She kissed her lips slowly before pushing her fingers back into her mouth and grabbing her neck with her free hand, “I fully intend to torture you with pleasure before finally giving in and fucking you. You’re going to keep being good for me aren’t you, Annie?” Anastasia nodded, her eyes glistening. “Well... we both know that you enjoy testing the limits of my patience so we’ll see, won’t we?” 

Anastasia nodded again, her tongue swirling around her fingers.

“This is us together. I own you. This body is my plaything. Your ache is mine. Your orgasm is mine. Your hunger is mine. Your dirty thoughts are mine. Your pleasure is mine to give,” she murmured. “You’re mine.”

It was much more of a struggle to remove her fingers from her mouth than she originally intended on it being. Evidently, at more than two thousand years old, she was still vastly overestimating her own willpower. These games were as much a sweet torment for her as they were for Anastasia, as she wanted her so bad she could hardly form a coherent thought.

“I’m yours,” Anastasia panted, her kiss-swollen lips on Kamilah’s body tracing the story of her love. “My pleasure is yours. My wet pussy is yours. You own me, Kami.”

Kamilah’s breath caught in the back of her throat and she forcibly tilted her face up, so that she was looking her in the eyes, their breaths mingling. She kissed her like she kissed her every time since she fell into her arms— like it might be the last.

They were both well aware that the night would end with their exhausted, naked bodies entwined. It was only a question of who would break first... and that was a question than never seemed to get old. 

They weren’t some casual fuck, and they never had been. Not from the first night in the cabin. Not from the first time she laid eyes on her. This woman was built for her. She had denied it as long as she could and she had tried to protect her from the horrors of the world, but they were meant to be together. She was the sea under her sky. They were bound at the horizon.

“Sadist,” Anastasia grumbled as Kamilah grabbed her hand and began leading her towards the dance floor.

“Not even five seconds and you’re already being a brat,” she sighed, feigning as much irritation as she could as she dug her nails into her skin. 

“Masochist.”

“Keep flinging terms around by all means.” She yanked the pouting woman into embrace and began slow dancing with her, making sure to hold her flush against her as she dragged her nails down the exposed skin of her back. She was well aware that this turned her on. “I’m not going to reward your bad behaviour.”

Anastasia cupped the back of her head and guided her down so that she could whisper in her ear, and she let out the quietest moan before murmuring, “but I’m so wet, Kami.”

Kamilah’s breath hitched and she dug the nails of her left hand into her back as she spanked her three times with her right. She wanted to fuck the arrogance right out of her, rip away the coating of innocence and take her to the dirty, sex core again. Her sexuality wasn't coy or cute at this moment. She wasn't saucy; she was feral. Her very presence on the earth stirred her ancient soul like nothing ever had.

“And what do you wish for me to do about that?”

“Fuck me.” Anastasia nipped at her neck and ran her hands down her sides. “I need your mouth, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Kami... my clit...”

Kamilah bit down on her bottom lip, her pulse increasing to match Anastasia’s. “This is witchcraft,” she concluded, her eyes practically rolling when Anastasia started whimpering softly in her ear, the very same way she did when she touched her where she wanted. This woman was the most skilled brat she’d ever encountered. “There is no other explanation.”

“You need me, too, don’t you?,” Anastasia cooed. “Mhm? You want me on my knees for you...”

Yes, she indeed did need her. She did, indeed, want her on her knees. So much that in lieu of an actual answer, she moaned.

Anastasia smirked at her and backed away, before that butter-wouldn’t-melt look of innocence appeared on her face again. She slipped so easily into play and out again, becoming her witty, intelligent self seamlessly. She wasn't intimidated by her. She teased and challenged her, relentlessly. She kissed like she meant it, and from the very first night, she enjoyed fucking without reservation or shame. This woman was, in a word, perfect.

“What a shame I promised to be a good girl for you—“

“To hell with the bloody games,” Kamilah chuckled as she picked her up and started off to find a private room. Nobody was seeing what was hers on that night. “You brat. Using my own libido against me, how dare you—“

“That was a good one, huh?,” giggled Anastasia as she kissed her lips. “Evidently I’m harder to discipline without handcuffs. I might need a firmer hand.”

She let out the most indignant puff of air, a smirk playing on her lips. “Even with handcuffs you’re utterly impossible. If one wants to get anything done, you must first be gagged... and even then you still find ways to seduce me.”

“Yeah,” the Bloodkeeper teased amidst a fit of giggles, “talk dirty to me.”

She huffed. “You are incorrigible.”

“Oh, you love it. You love it so much you’re dressed like me, willingly celebrating Halloween.”

That startled a laugh out of her and she shook her head in something akin to disbelief. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Kami.” She kissed her forehead. “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”

~ fin.


End file.
